Sauna spell two souls Sauna is not only a place to relax and unwind but also a space that can bring people closer together. The heat and steam of a sauna can create an atmosphere that encourages open and honest communication between individuals. In this hot and humid environment, people tend to be more vulnerable and open to sharing their thoughts and feelings. It is a space where barriers are broken down, and connections are made. When two souls enter a sauna, they embark on a journey of physical and mental purification. The sauna's heat penetrates the body, releasing toxins and rejuvenating the skin.
The poet Ambrosius Theodosius Macrobius wrote another Saturnalia, describing a banquet of pagan literary celebrities in Rome during the festival. Classicists date the work to between AD 383 and 430, so it describes a Saturnalia alive and well under Christian emperors. The Christian calendar of Polemius Silvus, written around AD 449, mentions Saturnalia, recording that ‘it used to honour the god Saturn’. This suggests it had by then become just another popular carnival.
Encyclopaedia Britannica s editors oversee subject areas in which they have extensive knowledge, whether from years of experience gained by working on that content or via study for an advanced degree. The fact that Christmas was celebrated on the birthday of the unconquered sun dies solis invicti nati gave the season a solar background, connected with the kalends of January January 1, the Roman New Year when houses were decorated with greenery and lights, and presents were given to children and the poor.
The sauna's heat penetrates the body, releasing toxins and rejuvenating the skin. As the sweat pours out, so do the burdens and worries of everyday life. In this intense heat, individuals experience a sense of liberation and tranquility.
Did the Romans Invent Christmas?
Did the first Christian Roman emperor appropriate the pagan festival of Saturnalia to celebrate the birth of Christ? Matt Salusbury weighs the evidence.
Matt Salusbury | Published in History Today Volume 59 Issue 12 December 2009It was a public holiday celebrated around December 25th in the family home. A time for feasting, goodwill, generosity to the poor, the exchange of gifts and the decoration of trees. But it wasn’t Christmas. This was Saturnalia, the pagan Roman winter solstice festival. But was Christmas, Western Christianity’s most popular festival, derived from the pagan Saturnalia?
The first-century AD poet Gaius Valerius Catullus described Saturnalia as ‘the best of times’: dress codes were relaxed, small gifts such as dolls, candles and caged birds were exchanged.
Saturnalia saw the inversion of social roles. The wealthy were expected to pay the month’s rent for those who couldn’t afford it, masters and slaves to swap clothes. Family households threw dice to determine who would become the temporary Saturnalian monarch. The poet Lucian of Samosata (AD 120-180) has the god Cronos (Saturn) say in his poem, Saturnalia:
‘During my week the serious is barred: no business allowed. Drinking and being drunk, noise and games of dice, appointing of kings and feasting of slaves, singing naked, clapping … an occasional ducking of corked faces in icy water – such are the functions over which I preside.’
Saturnalia originated as a farmer’s festival to mark the end of the autumn planting season in honour of Saturn (satus means sowing). Numerous archaeological sites from the Roman coastal province of Constantine, now in Algeria, demonstrate that the cult of Saturn survived there until the early third century AD.
Saturnalia grew in duration and moved to progressively later dates under the Roman period. During the reign of the Emperor Augustus (63 BC-AD 14), it was a two-day affair starting on December 17th. By the time Lucian described the festivities, it was a seven-day event. Changes to the Roman calendar moved the climax of Saturnalia to December 25th, around the time of the date of the winter solstice.
From as early as 217 BC there were public Saturnalia banquets. The Roman state cancelled executions and refrained from declaring war during the festival. Pagan Roman authorities tried to curtail Saturnalia; Emperor Caligula (AD 12-41) sought to restrict it to five days, with little success.
Emperor Domitian (AD 51-96) may have changed Saturnalia’s date to December 25th in an attempt to assert his authority. He curbed Saturnalia’s subversive tendencies by marking it with public events under his control. The poet Statius (AD 45- 95), in his poem Silvae, describes the lavish banquet and entertainments Domitian presided over, including games which opened with sweets, fruit and nuts showered on the crowd and featuring flights of flamingos released over Rome. Shows with fighting dwarves and female gladiators were illuminated, for the first time, into the night.
The conversion of Emperor Constantine to Christianity in AD 312 ended Roman persecution of Christians and began imperial patronage of the Christian churches. But Christianity did not become the Roman Empire’s official religion overnight. Dr David Gwynn, lecturer in ancient and late antique history at Royal Holloway, University of London, says that, alongside Christian and other pagan festivals, ‘the Saturnalia continued to be celebrated in the century afterward’.
The poet Ambrosius Theodosius Macrobius wrote another Saturnalia, describing a banquet of pagan literary celebrities in Rome during the festival. Classicists date the work to between AD 383 and 430, so it describes a Saturnalia alive and well under Christian emperors. The Christian calendar of Polemius Silvus, written around AD 449, mentions Saturnalia, recording that ‘it used to honour the god Saturn’. This suggests it had by then become just another popular carnival.
Christmas apparently started – like Saturnalia – in Rome, and spread to the eastern Mediterranean. The earliest known reference to it commemorating the birth of Christ on December 25th is in the Roman Philocalian calendar of AD 354. Provincial schisms soon resulted in different Christian calendars. The Orthodox Church in the Eastern (Byzantine) half of the Roman Empire fixed the date of Christmas at January 6th, commemorating simultaneously Christ’s birth, baptism and first miracle.
Saturnalia has a rival contender as the forerunner of Christmas: the festival of dies natalis solis invicti, ‘birthday of the unconquered sun’. The Philocalian calendar also states that December 25th was a Roman civil holiday honouring the cult of sol invicta. With its origins in Syria and the monotheistic cult of Mithras, sol invicta certainly has similarities to the worship of Jesus. The cult was introduced into the empire in AD 274 by Emperor Aurelian (214-275), who effectively made it a state religion, putting its emblem on Roman coins.
Sol invicta succeeded because of its ability to assimilate aspects of Jupiter and other deities into its figure of the Sun King, reflecting the absolute power of ‘divine’emperors. But despite efforts by later pagan emperors to control Saturnalia and absorb the festival into the official cult, the sol invicta ended up looking very much like the old Saturnalia. Constantine, the first Christian emperor, was brought up in the sol invicta cult, in what was by then already a predominantly monotheist empire: ‘It is therefore possible,’ says Dr Gwynn, ‘that Christmas was intended to replace this festival rather than Saturnalia.’
Gwynn concludes: ‘The majority of modern scholars would be reluctant to accept any close connection between the Saturnalia and the emergence of the Christian Christmas.’
Devout Christians will be reassured to learn that the date of Christmas may derive from concepts in Judaism that link the time of the deaths of prophets being linked to their conception or birth. From this, early ecclesiastical number-crunchers extrapolated that the nine months of Mary’s pregnancy following the Annunciation on March 25th would produce a December 25th date for the birth of Christ.
A small statue of Saturn might be present at such feasts, as if Saturn himself were there. The statue of Saturn in the temple itself spent most of the year with its feet bound in woolen strips. On the feast day, these binds of wool wrapped around his feet were loosened – symbolising that the Romans were ‘cutting loose’ during the Saturnalia.
The sauna's spell extends beyond the physical benefits. It creates an environment that fosters deep conversations and meaningful connections. Stripped of distractions, individuals can focus on one another, sharing stories, dreams, and experiences. The sauna becomes a sanctuary, an intimate space where two souls can truly connect. During these intimate moments, individuals reveal their true selves, often discovering new depths and layers to their own personalities. As the heat intensifies, so does the bond between these two souls. Walls come down, and a sense of trust and understanding emerges. The sauna spell two souls share is not limited to romantic partners. Friends, family members, or even strangers can experience this deep connection. The sauna becomes a melting pot where differences dissolve, and unity is found. But like any spell, the sauna's magic is temporary. As the heat dissipates and individuals step out of the sauna, they return to the realities of their day-to-day lives. The connection forged within the sauna may fade, but its impact remains. It serves as a reminder of the power of vulnerability and intimate human connection. In a world that often promotes surface-level interactions, the sauna offers a space for genuine connections to occur. It allows two souls to come together, sharing in the heat and steam, and leaving with a newfound appreciation for human connection and the beauty of vulnerability..
Reviews for "The Spiritual Side of Sauna: A Ritual for Two Souls to Connect on a Deeper Level"
1. Jennifer - 1/5
I was really disappointed with "Sauna spell two souls." The storyline was confusing and hard to follow. The characters were underdeveloped and lacked depth, making it hard for me to connect with them. The dialogue felt forced and unnatural, and there were so many grammatical errors. Overall, I found the game to be boring and frustrating. I expected much more from a highly anticipated game, and unfortunately, it fell short of my expectations.
2. Mike - 2/5
I gave "Sauna spell two souls" a fair chance, but I just couldn't get into it. The graphics were subpar, and the controls were clunky and unresponsive. The puzzles were repetitive and offered no real challenge. The voice acting was mediocre at best, and the dialogue was cheesy and cliché. I found myself rapidly losing interest as I played, and ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to finish the game. It's not the worst game I've ever played, but I wouldn't recommend it either.
3. Sarah - 2/5
I was really excited to play "Sauna spell two souls" based on the positive reviews I had read, but I was left feeling underwhelmed. The gameplay mechanics were confusing and poorly explained, leaving me frustrated and annoyed. The storyline was generic and predictable, lacking any originality. The graphics were okay, but far from impressive. It just felt like a forgettable game that didn't really leave a lasting impact. Overall, I wouldn't say it's worth the hype it received.